


Ravenous

by UnproblematicMe



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dark Crowley (Good Omens), Food Porn, Force-Feeding, M/M, Oral Sex, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25576591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnproblematicMe/pseuds/UnproblematicMe
Summary: Aziraphale finds himself in a very unfortunate situation. Luckily Crowley is there to save him. Or is he?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 129





	Ravenous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inappropriateggplant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inappropriateggplant/gifts).



> This is a commission for Inappropiateggplant.  
> I hope you like it, dear, and have a wonderful birthday! <3

The first thing Aziraphale noticed was a composition of different delicious smells. But then he remembered he had not been cooking at all. He had planned on doing so, wanting to test a recipe for Crowley’s visit, but had been overcome by a sudden heavy tiredness. Though it was against his habits, his body had left him no choice but to sleep. Of course the concern of demonic intervention being the cause of the sudden fatigue had accompanied him while drifting away, but he had been sure his trusty bookshop would not let in any demons who meant him harm.

Now however, Aziraphale feared this might have been a wrong assumption. Further and further the process of awakening progressed, but it remained dark around him. He was blindfolded! Panic set in. On instinct he tried to rip away whatever fabric blocked his sight and could not move his arms. Now fully awake Aziraphale noticed he was not lying in his bed but in a sitting position on a chair of some sort, his wrists securely tied behind his back.

The miracle he tried to perform fizzled away without effect. Either the restraints or the unknown place seemed to be blocking his powers.

He forced himself to calm down and tried to gather information. His supernatural sense and his sight were not at his disposable, but he could still hear, feel and smell.

So far he heard no sound, no matter how much he strained his ears. Apparently he was sat on a wooden chair, the upholstered backrest an oddly comfortable choice for a kidnapping. Another surprise was the softness of the fabric that restrained his wrists. Mortified, he realized that whoever had taken him here, had done so while Aziraphale was wearing nothing but a plain white undershirt and tartan patterned boxer shorts. Right now his lack of dignity was not his biggest concern, but still his cheeks heated up at the thought.

The scent of food that had awoken him still lay in the air, but there was another smell, oddly familiar. It was a smoky aroma like cedar wood burning in a cozy fire with a hint of spice underneath, mingling with leather and expensive aftershave. This could only be… The silence was suddenly broken by heavy footsteps echoing through the place. A minute ago Aziraphale would have been scared, but with the comforting smell in his nose he was happy and relieved now. Sure enough the blindfold disappeared from his eyes and Aziraphale looked into a pair of familiar amber colored eyes.

“Crowley,” he sighed happily. He should have known. His best friend had found him in his predicament and would save him. Once again.

“Hello, angel,” Crowley smirked, squatting down so they were eye to eye. “Found yourself some trouble again?”

Aziraphale suppressed a smile. Though he would never admit it, he liked this. Crowley saving him, gloating a bit with that charming grin and letting him dangle for a while with Aziraphale huffing and pouting until Crowley set him free.

“It was not my fault this time – not that it ever _really_ was, mind you,” Aziraphale said softly. “But I’ll admit that sometimes my decisions weren’t the wisest. Now however…”

“Shhh,” Crowley shushed him with an expression of mock sympathy before he spoke in a condescendingly sweet voice: “I know, I know. All the innocent little angel did was playing in his kitchen a bit and going to sleep after a weird tasting mug of tea.”

“Yes, erm… how do you…?” Aziraphale stuttered, narrowed his eyes and asked: “Crowley, is this your doing?”

The question was of course unnecessary. The only way Crowley could possibly have all this information was that he was responsible for it.

“Really, Crowley,” Aziraphale scolded the demon. “We’re both too old for silly pranks. Wait, you didn’t put up a camera for this Whocube channel you keep talking about?”

“Nope,” Crowley answered. “This is for my own enjoyment.”

Suddenly there was a glint in his eyes that Aziraphale could not quite name and for the first time ever the angel was not sure if he was safe with Crowley. He tried to push the unpleasant feeling away.

“So, what exactly is this about?”

“Your invitation for dinner,” Crowley said. “The fifth this month.”

“You can’t be serious,” Aziraphale huffed.

“Dead serious.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale said sarcastically. “You didn’t like my Sunday evening plans for us. A kidnapping was the only reasonable course of action. It’s not like you could have made your own suggestion if you didn’t like mine or just….”

An undignified noise escaped him when his chin was grabbed and Crowley – uncharacteristically rough – forced Aziraphale to look at him again. The demon mockingly mimicked the angel’s pouty expression.

“Aww, don’t be mad, angel,” he said. “Of course I like having dinner with you. But I always leave hungrier than I arrive.”

“This is hardly my fault,” Aziraphale insisted. “I always offer a variety of food.”

“Oh, but it _is_ your fault, Aziraphale.” Crowley let go off Aziraphale’s chin. His long fingers slid along his captive’s jaw before wandering down the throat, finally resting in the slope between neck and shoulder. “It’s always the same. I sit there, ravenous, and watch as you indulge yourself with your favorites, moaning like a bitch in heat.”

“Crowley!” With wide eyes, shocked and offended, Aziraphale glowered at his friend, but Crowley only chuckled.

“Let’s prove my statement, hm?” he said.

He got up and, following him with his eyes, Aziraphale now noticed that he was seated in the middle of Crowley’s study. The demon was walking through the room with seductively swaying hips and Aziraphale finally learned where the delicious smells were coming from. On the desk, in front of the pompous throne, several plates with food were placed neatly. Aziraphale saw artfully created sushi, slices of perfectly cooked roast beef and a small dish of dark, almost black, mousse au chocolate. If not for the distressing position he was in and Crowley’s worrying behavior, Aziraphale’s mouth would be watering by now. But the situation _was_ distressing and eating seemed horribly inappropriate. Even though it smelled very good…

Crowley came back with the sushi plate, dipped a piece of sashimi into the light green sauce that adorned the center of the arrangement. Stubbornly Aziraphale pressed his mouth shut as Crowley offered the food to him, ignoring the tingling sensation of wasabi on his lips. Sighing the demon rolled his eyes. With a sizzle of demonic power a small table appeared next to Aziraphale’s chair. Crowley put the plate down and grabbed Aziraphale’s chin forcefully with his now free large hand, the other still holding the sashimi.

“Open up,” he said darkly.

As Aziraphale shook his head, the demon slowly but steadily increased the pressure of his fingertips against the hollow of Aziraphale’s cheeks until the angel had to give in.

With a noise of indignation and pain Aziraphale parted his lips, the creation of salmon and rice immediately sliding in. At first Aziraphale was expecting his tongue to burn since Crowley had generously bathed the piece in the sauce, but soon the taste of honey balmed the sharp sensation of wasabi. An exquisite composition of sweetness and spiciness unfolded on his tongue, in perfect harmony with the texture of the rice and the fresh fish. Aziraphale could not help his eyes fluttering shut and a delighted moan escaping his lips. As soon as the sound echoed through the room, he noticed what he had done and his eyes snapped open again, meeting Crowley’s gaze.

There was a smug smile on his handsome face, but his widened pupils and flaring nostrils spoke of slipping control.

“See?” he asked hoarsely. “Even if you try, you cannot stop sounding like an eager whore.”

Of course Aziraphale wanted to protest again, but there was something in Crowley’s voice and gaze that captivated him and stunned him into silence. Eyes locked on Crowley’s, he obediently parted his lips again, allowing Crowley to push another bite in. And another. And another. Each time Crowley’s finger lingered a little longer in Aziraphale’s mouth, waiting to be licked clean. At one point the sushi was replaced by the tender roastbeef that somehow had appeared within Crowley’s reach. But Aziraphale barely registered it. More and more the food became a faint echo of taste on his tongue, Crowley’s skin becoming the dominant sensation in his mouth. He found himself sucking harder and greedier on the slender fingers that relentlessly delivered.

Then suddenly it stopped and a snap of Crowley’s finger ripped Aziraphale out of the strange trance the feeding had put him in. Looking up, he saw that the dish with the mousse had appeared within Crowley’s reach and the demon was already dipping a small silver spoon into the chocolate mass.

“Desert?” he asked.

He presented the spoon to Aziraphale who automatically opened his mouth, nodding.

“Alright,” Crowley said, stretched out his long serpentine tongue and licked the spoon clean.

Before Aziraphale had a chance to process this, Crowley had grabbed his neck, pulled him forward and pushed his tongue passed the angel’s lips. After a short second of surprise, Aziraphale closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost.

The rich and sweet taste of chocolate was swirled around inside his mouth but faded with every lash of Crowley’s tongue, soon leaving nothing but Crowley himself: the taste of his lips on Aziraphale’s, the scent of his skin and aftershave in Aziraphale’s nose and the feeling of his fingers twisting in Aziraphale’s hair. Blushing, Aziraphale felt a tingling sensation running down his spine, straight towards his penis. He should be appalled and angry, but obviously his body did not agree.

When Crowley pulled away, Aziraphale was breathing heavily, a small whine of protest accompanying the loss of contact.

“You want more?” Crowley asked.

“Please,” Aziraphale breathed out.

As Crowley straightened himself, a visible tent in his tight trousers was right before Aziraphale’s eyes, sending another rush of heat towards his cheeks and into his pants.

“Told you I like having dinner with you,” Crowley said lowly as he undid his fly. “I just always feel like there is something missing.”

Smirking, he pulled down his pants just enough to free his manhood. Eyes fixed on Aziraphale, he lazily stroke along the already hard erection, bringing it close to Aziraphale’s mouth. Crowley grabbed his hair again, painfully this time.

“Each and every time,” he growled, “I have to watch you put your sweet little mouth around a variety of things, licking, sucking, suckling and swallowing. Don’t tell me you don’t do that on purpose - leaving me craving for your lips to give my cock the same treatment. Now you will.”

Crowley let two fingers of his free hand run through the mousse before smearing the dark mass along the tip of his cock. Using his hold on Aziraphale’s hair again, he brought his captive’s lips towards his erection.

“Now,” he said. “I know you love chocolate. No excuses.”

Aziraphale took in Crowley’s member. The angel had no experience and therefore no comparison when it came to size, but the length sure impressed him. Crowley’s cock was rock hard, the veins throbbing and Aziraphale saw precum gathering at the slit, mingling with the mousse.

Patience apparently running out, Crowley rubbed the head along Aziraphale’s lips, grip tightening in the blonde hair.

Aziraphale knew he should hate this. But he did not, his own cock, filling more and more, was proof of that. Defeated he started licking the chocolate from the tip of Crowley’s cock, slowly and hesitantly. Looking up, he saw the demon throw back his head in pleasure, moaning lowly. Encouraged, Aziraphale picked up his pace, but soon it was no longer enough for Crowley. Impatiently he started moving his hips, poking against Aziraphale’s lips with his cock.

Nervously the angel opened his mouth wider and immediately Crowley pushed in. Aziraphale moaned at the new sensation of the warm and heavy weight on his tongue. Obediently he hollowed his cheeks, sucking the mousse from the tip of Crowley’s cock. He swirled his tongue around, feeling the hand in his hair tighten. The sweet taste of chocolate faded away, making room for something salty and musky, having Aziraphale squirm in his seat. He wanted more, he needed more. A growl sounded above him and Crowley started snapping his hips. His movements and hold forced Aziraphale into a more passive role, but he did not mind. He relaxed his throat and let Crowley fuck his mouth, both of them moaning and breathing heavily.

“Angel,” Crowley groaned. “That’s good. You’re so good.”

The praise went straight to Aziraphale’s cock and he whimpered. He had no time to savor it though. Suddenly Crowley shouted and pushed forward, the angel’s face now flush against Crowley’s body. It was a warm, salty sensation as Crowley came down his throat. Held in place by the demon’s tight grip, Aziraphale swallowed obediently everything Crowley had to give, desperate and needy for anything he could get.

Only slowly Aziraphale found out of the dizzy state the hypnotizing rhythm of Crowley’s hips had put him in. Long slender fingers softly ran through his hair and he blinked, looking at Crowley who smirked down at him, smug and sated. He played with the angel’s soft curls for a while before roughly grabbing a handful, using it to pull Aziraphale into a kiss.

Aziraphale’s own erection was now straining painfully against his underpants, a jolt of arousal rushing towards it with every move of Crowley’s tongue.

“Please,” he whined muffled into his counterpart’s mouth, eliciting a dark chuckle from Crowley.

Teasingly soft the demon cupped Aziraphale’s erection through the fabric and grinned at the angel’s desperate expression. Then he grabbed the waistband and brought his lips to Aziraphale’s ear.

“Don’t you worry, angel,” he whispered. “After all, _I_ haven’t eaten yet.”

The End


End file.
